


Er Entschuldigt

by orphan_account



Category: Tangled (2010)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Romance, Vignettes, fic prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-08 15:44:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1946826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eugene apologises.  A lot.  Probably not as much as he ought to, but he’s so charming when he says ‘Sorry, Blondie’ that it seems to count double when he manages it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. He Didn't Just Steal Her Heart

**Author's Note:**

> A series of vignettes of varying length, based on (almost all of) guardian-of-feels’ list of fanart prompts, found [here](http://guardian-of-feels.tumblr.com/post/90968879498/you-know-what-i-want-i-want-new-dream-fanart-of). I’ll put another one up every few days.
> 
> The title is German for ‘He apologises’, because I am only slightly less terrible at titles than I am at speaking German.

It wasn’t as if he had to steal food.  He could have asked and had pretty much any delicacy he wanted delivered right to the little apartment he’d been given in the castle.  Not that he’d put the cook to that much trouble — Jurgen was a nice guy. Eugene enjoyed palace life (like, he really really more than anyone in the castle knew enjoyed a permanent roof and enough to eat and not having to worry about firewood, money, getting rained on, getting sick, getting hurt or the lass’ mother, well, maybe he did have to worry about that last one a little bit), but he wasn’t going to start becoming That Guy who ordered everyone around to show how awesome he was now.  
  
Okay, he ordered the guards around, just a little, now and then.  Old scores to settle and all.  
  
The upshot of it was that he didn’t have  to steal food, but it gave him something to do, kept the old brain turning over with something other than learning etiquette and protocol, and besides the pretty housemaid had mentioned that the buttery was left unlocked at night so that anyone on duty could get a bite to eat.  She hadn’t known Eugene was listening at the time but to be fair, Eugene had been hiding around a corner stealing kisses with Rapunzel, so he hadn’t even really meant to eavesdrop.  That time.  
  
So that was why he was sneaking into the buttery, retrieving just enough strawberries not to be noticed, and slipping away —  
  
—only to smack straight into Rapunzel, who gave a surprised little yelp, cut off by Eugene’s hand across her mouth.  “Sorry, Blondie,” he whispered, and she gave him an exasperated look, visible even in the very low light.  
  
“What are you doing here?” she whispered when he moved his hand.  
  
“What’s it look like?” he hissed back, holding up the little punnet of strawberries.  “What about you?”  If he didn’t have to steal food, she really didn’t have to steal food.  
  
Rapunzel at least had the good grace to blush as she held up the bottle of cream.  “Share?”  
  
Eugene grinned, and they slipped away to his room, Rapunzel just as soft-footed as he through the darkened corridors. Strawberries alone in his rooms was a treat.  Feeding Rapunzel strawberries dipped in cream, then kissing away the sweet juice that stained her mouth — that was heaven.  
  



	2. Coronation Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt "comforting her when she's going through something hard".

For someone who had been at most thirty feet away from his wife for the last two days, Eugene wondered why it felt that _this_ was the first chance he had to actually touch her in all that time.    
  
It had started the day before when he sat with Rapunzel while she napped, making sure she rested for the vigil ahead.  And he had been allowed into the chapel with her when the long night began at sundown, though only for the first hour of the twelve she would spent in prayer. Eugene lingered by the door as he left, watching her tiny figure kneeling before the altar.  She was dressed in simple white linen and lit only by candlelight, and she was beautiful. He had hoped she knew he would be waiting just the other side of the door.   
  
Then the coronation itself, hours of processions and singing and vows to be taken before she could be crowned.  Eugene had spent most of it standing just behind her and to her right; watching, exchanging words when they could, but not touching.  As Prince Consort, his duties were to dance with important women, entertain their husbands, and try to make sure Rapunzel ate something in between greeting everyone.  
  
And now the dancing was over, the food cleared away.  Their son and daughter had kissed them both good night, and they were alone in their room at last, and finally Eugene could wrap his arms around Rapunzel and hold her close.  Twenty-four years since the Lost Princess returned, and now she was Queen. She wore the years lightly, only showing them in her eyes, and the faint smile-lines marking her face.  Eugene made sure to kiss every one of them, soothing away the long, lonely night and day.  
  
Rapunzel rested heavy in his arms, all the regal seriousness falling away and leaving simply the woman.  She sighed gratefully when Eugene led her to the bed, falling back against the pillows while he slipped her shoes off, settling her feet in his lap.  
  
“Hey,” he offered, suddenly shy.  If he hadn’t deserved a princess, he really didn’t deserve a queen.  
  
Rapunzel wiggled her toes at him.  “Hi.”  Oh, he was an idiot — Rapunzel was herself above all, and deserving or not, they belonged to each other.  “Ugh,” she said, “thank heavens we’ve got tomorrow free.  We do, right?”  
  
Eugene nodded.  “I finished the trade agreement with Arendelle yesterday, and everyone who’s visiting will be hungover, trust me.”  He started rubbing her feet; even with more years out of the tower than in it, Rapunzel and shoes did not get along.  “You can sleep all day if you want.”  There — he could feel the tension leaving her body, her legs growing heavier in his lap as she relaxed.  He ran his hands up her calves, easing tension and soothing both of them with the play of skin over skin.  They were far too tired for anything tonight, but tomorrow, with the sunlight bathing their bed, lighting up her body…  
  
“Mmmm, tempting.”  Rapunzel yawned. “When you were little, did you think that queens could do whatever they liked, whenever they liked?”  
  
“I’m distinctly remember telling the other kids that your mother dined on strawberries and champagne every night, and your father spent whole days just riding his favourite horses,” Eugene admitted.  “Sorry.  ‘The princess and her consort bolted a sandwich between meetings’ doesn’t quite have the same _je ne sais quoi_.”  
  
Rapunzel laughed, and stretched a little, groaning happily when she managed to crack her neck and back.  “Mama would have died of boredom, but you might have gotten Papa on the nose, actually.” A pause, an indrawn breath.  “I missed him today.”  
  
The old king had died just over a year ago, after a short, harsh illness.  “I missed him too,” Eugene said. “He’d be so proud of you.”  
  
Rapunzel held out her arms, and he moved to lie next to her, head on her shoulder and arms around her waist.  “Are you scared, love?  You’ll be an amazing queen.  The best.  Don’t tell your mother I said that.”  
  
Her laugh was a little damp, but genuine.  “I won’t.  And yes.  No?  I don’t know.”  She sighed, burying her face in his hair, which somehow looked even better now that it was streaked with silver.  “Can I take the vows back?”  
  
“Sorry, Blondie.  You’d never give this up, though, not really.”  
  
“No,” she said.  “I’m…proud, I guess.  To keep Papa and Mama’s work going — although she’s not exactly going to retire, Dowager Queen or no — and to…to serve.  To make things better.”  
  
Eugene hugged her hard, so tight she squeaked a little in protest.  “And that’s why you’re going to be the best,” he said, wondering if it was possible to actually, physically burn with pride.    
  
“Best is for others to decide.  I’ll try for good,” she said, and then the Queen of Corona and her Prince Consort just about managed to get out of their finery and under the covers before falling deeply asleep, their kingdom still celebrating around them.


	3. A Meadow, Two Lovers at Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for the prompt 'saying it with a cheeky grin when he’s teasing her'

Rapunzel is not stupid.  Not at all, and she knows it.  And if she looks like she’s doubting it, Eugene or her mother or her father are there to quickly set her straight.  She knows they love her, and are proud of her, and she believes them when they tell her that’s she’s really, truly bright.  Not just ‘smart for a girl who lived in a tower all her life’, but _really_ smart.  
  
So she’s not dumb.  But sometimes — a lot, if she’s being honest — there are things she doesn’t know that everyone else in the whole world seems to know.  Like that it’s okay, if she wakes weeping from nightmares, to steal into Eugene’s room and crawl in beside him.  Without fail, he rolls over, makes a little mumbling sound and wraps sleepy arms around her.  Even though he has exactly the same number and quality of blankets, it’s warmer in his bed, and he’s never even slightly annoyed at her waking him up.  Gothel threw a fit the sole time a tiny Rapunzel dared seek her out, but Eugene (once he’s woken up a bit) makes her giggle, and they cuddle together, and he tells her all the castle gossip he’s learnt that day.  She’s pretty sure he’s making up half of the romance between the pretty housemaid and the groom, but his voice is nice so she doesn’t much care.  
  
So that was something she learned about right there, and in the most wonderful way.  But no matter how fast she takes everything in, there’s always something missing.  
  
“Race you!”    
  
Eugene takes off, running through the woods, while Rapunzel shrieks and chases after him.  The forest here is old, so there’s almost no undergrowth, but no real path either, and she pivots around trees and leaps roots, determined to catch him.  Eugene is stronger, with longer legs, but Rapunzel is quicker overall, and clever about finding her way.  His — totally unfair! — head start means he wins, and she’s panting when she finally catches up to where he’s leaning against a big tree, a little clearing just beyond.  
  
He’s standing so jauntily, arms crossed over his chest, she is absolutely certain that it’s a Flynn Rider pose. So Rapunzel stands square in front of him, hands on her hips and arms akimbo, and refuses to fall for it.  
  
“Not fair.  I’ve got shoes on and you had a head start.”  
  
Eugene makes a dismissive sound.  “You’ve been wearing shoes for almost two months now, and it wasn’t that much of a head start.  Sorry Blondie, I’ve got you beat.”  
  
Rapunzel tries a pout.  “I’m still faster barefoot.  _So_ not fair.”  
  
Eugene shrugs, utterly unmoved.  “You lose, princess.  Time to pay a forfeit.”  
  
“What do you want, then?”  Rapunzel shifts to the balls of her feet, ready to run.  Eugene’s forfeits are, without exception, fun and imaginative and the best part of losing to him, but she is not about to let him know this.  The best part is making him work for it.  
  
Eugene looks at her, eyes narrowed, then grins and darts forward, picking her up before she can react and hauling her over one shoulder.  He carries her into the warm sunlight in the clearing.  “Got you!”  
  
He’s done this before, and she wriggles and yelps and tries to kick free, but Eugene is _strong_ , and she knows he’s got her, he would never let her fall.  This is all old ground, and they’ll probably start kissing any minute now —  
  
Except this time is different, and Eugene lays her on a bed of grass and wildflowers and he’s doing — something?  Running his fingers over her sides, and she can’t stop laughing and trying to twist away from his fingers, and it’s the best feeling, but how can he make her shriek with laughter just from a touch?  
  
“Eugene!  What are you doing?” she manages, curling onto one side, her hands shielding her other.  
  
“Tickling you mercilessly, obviously,” he manages, in between laughing at her, and oh it is not fair because her skirt’s hiked up and his hands are behind her knees and she’s laughing so hard she can’t breathe.  
  
He stops, lets her catch her breath, and she rolls over to look up at him, and she’s smiling so much it hurts.  “How did you do that?  What did you call it?  Can anyone do that or just you?”  
  
Eugene’s awful at hiding his emotions from her.  Oh, she’s pretty sure he thinks he’s great at it, mostly because she lets him, but the way his eyes widen and his jaw drops just a little always gives him away.  “Oh, Blondie…no one’s tickled you before?”  
  
She shakes her head, and tries not to be ashamed.  There’s so much she doesn’t know yet, is she always going to be an outsider to…well, everyone?  Are they going to spend the rest of their lives with a sudden shock of pain in his eyes, sorrow for everything she’s missed?  “You’re the first!” she offers a tiny bit too brightly, but his face relaxes and goes a little goofy.  
  
Eugene smiles down at her, smoothing a strand of hair out of her eyes.  “So I am.  It’s not some secret superpower I’ve got, by the way.  I don’t…I don’t know how I do it, exactly” he admits.  “It’s just…” he trails off, and runs his fingers up her side again, making her giggle.  “See?”  
  
“Can I tickle you, then?”  
  
Eugene shakes his head.  “Sorry, Blondie.  I’m not ticklish.”    
  
She’s really got to tell him that she can always tell when he’s lying.  Maybe tomorrow.    
  
Right now — well, she worked out some time ago that if she stretches out, and breathes deep so her chest rises, his eyes cloud over and he’s completely distracted.  He doesn’t even see her flexing her fingers, or eyeing his open jacket.  Though to be honest, she’s not sure he would notice, say, major geographical landmarks at that moment.  
  
It turns out Eugene isn’t ticklish — not on his sides, the way she is.  But his belly and his neck?  Rapunzel quickly has him helpless beneath her, and she loves the way he laughs, the way it makes him look young and his face gets red and she finally gives him a break and he gazes up at her with that amazing smile.  
  
“Not ticklish, huh?”  She’s a little starry-eyed, but that never stopped her from making her point before and Eugene laughs again and pulls her close, and she has never felt out of place in his arms.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is NOTHING I cannot inject with angst, mwahahaha.


	4. Flynn Rider Would Never Have Freaked Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for the prompt 'with tears in his eyes, when she's physically hurt'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ehm. So. You'd never be able to guess from this that I live to read and write hurt/comfort. (I hope that this isn't just glurge -- I tried a little character development for both of them at least!)

  
He was worried enough, hearing the sound of her falling, running back to the little waterfall without really thinking.  It was probably good that his feet were already moving when she wailed his name, because it meant he could keep going when his heart stopped.  
  
“Eugene!”  She had landed flat on the ground but was already pushing herself upright, eyes gone huge.    
  
“Shhh, shhh, don’t move,” he says, pretty sure he’s just moved faster than any human being has a right to.  “Are you hurt?”  He runs his hands across her shoulders, down her arms, checking for blood or broken bones.  
  
“Y-yes.”  Rapunzel’s eyes are filling with tears and no no no he is not okay with that at all.  She pulls her skirt up over her knees, and makes a terrified little noise.  “Eugene, it hurts.”  
  
He winces in sympathy — she must have landed on a rock, because the skin over her right knee is split open to the bone, the deep cut continuing halfway down her calf.  “Oh, sweetheart.  Does it hurt anywhere else?”  
  
She shakes her head, but he’s not satisfied until he’s run his hands through her hair, down her sides and over her uninjured leg.  At least she didn’t hit her head, and she’s alert, if shaking like a leaf, tears rolling down her face.    
  
He musters a smile, and kisses the tip of her nose.  “Oh, Goldie.  It’ll be okay, I promise.  You might need stitches, but you’ll be just fine.”  She definitely needs stitches, but she will also definitely be just fine, because really, it’s not serious at all.  And if it even looked like she wouldn’t be all right, he’d personally rearrange the universe to ensure that she would be just fine.  
  
“Eugene, why won’t it stop…”  Oh, no.  This must be the first time she’s actually been in pain for longer than it takes to sing that awful little song.  He wraps his arms around her, giving himself this moment to just hold her, stop her shaking in that scary way.    
  
“I know, Blondie.  It’ll hurt for a little while, but not forever.  Promise.”  He pulls back, cups her face in one hand.  “I have to bandage it, stop the bleeding so we can get you home, okay?  Then we can have a real doctor look at it, and he can give you something so it doesn’t hurt.”  
  
Rapunzel nods, bites her lip.  “Will you stay with me?  Please?”  
  
He can’t stop a raw, rough laugh.  “Trust me, I’m not letting you out of my sight.”  He kisses her cheek, tasting salt, and turns off the part of himself that is so absolutely not all right with his beautiful girl being in pain.  He’s doctored himself, and others, enough times to know the trick of it.  
  
They don’t have much extra with them, and nothing in the horse’s saddlebag. (If it had been Maximus, Eugene is certain that they’d have a full selection of literally anything they could possibly need, but the big lug is working today, so they’ve got a reasonably intelligent beast, but not Max-level, and who knew you could miss a horse?)  Rapunzel’s petticoat is clean, though, and he has a pocketknife, so it’s quickly cut into strips.  Thankfully she’s not bleeding too much, although he’s pretty sure the bright blood running down her leg and soaking into the grass will feature in his nightmares at some point.  
  
Rapunzel is quiet, except for a few sniffles, and only cries out once, when Eugene straightens her leg out and presses a pad of fabric to her torn knee.  The sound cuts through his self-imposed stoicism and he pauses to rest his forehead against hers, hoping he’s hiding the tears pricking at his eyes.  “Sorry, Blondie.  Just a little bit longer, all right?”  
  
She nods, and even smiles.  “I’m okay.  I am.”  
  
“You are,” Eugene agrees, and finishes binding her leg.  He lifts her onto the horse easily, and swings up behind, shifting so that she’s sitting across the saddle, more or less on his lap, one arm holding her in place and the other taking the reins.  “Can you hold on to me?” he asks, worried about her falling, and also about her being so quiet.  She hasn’t lost that much blood, but she might be a little shocky from…well, the first time she’s really ever been injured, probably.  He holds her a little tighter as her arms wrap around him.  “Good girl.  The worst is almost over.”  
  
She nods, and rests her head on his shoulder, and they ride for the castle as quickly as he dares.  
  
He’s just about losing the ability to push everything away when they reach the safety of the castle, and Eugene can carry her to her bed and a real, proper doctor can have a look at her leg, and he can remember to breathe.  The royals’ physician is an older man with an infinitely kind face, and Eugene feels better just being in his presence.  He jokes with both of them, makes Rapunzel giggle, and gives her half a glass of wine dosed with laudanum before he even takes off the makeshift bandages.  
  
Rapunzel is pretty well out of it by the time he stitches her leg, but Eugene sits on the other side of her, holding her hand tightly and wondering if he can request a glass of wine himself.  Or anything, frankly.  He’s not picky, and now it’s his turn to be a bit shaky.   
  
“She’ll be fine, you know.”  
  
“Uh?”  Eugene looks up from where he’d been watching Rapunzel’s face.  She’s technically awake, but her eyes — what he can see of them — aren’t pointing in the same direction.  It’s kind of adorable.  “Oh.  Yes.  I know.”  He tries a smile, and it sort of works.  
  
“Not the leg, we both know that.”  Honestly, sometimes he thinks this man is the only person in this castle who will talk to him bluntly.  Well, him and Rapunzel’s mother, but Eugene’s still terrified of her, so they’re not really going to have a heart-to-heart anytime soon.  “Feeling pain.  Getting hurt.  Running around and playing like a lass her age, for that matter.  Living.  She’ll be fine, Eugene.”  
  
“Um.”  He rubs his forehead.  “I know.  She’s amazing.”  He looks up to meet the older man’s kind eyes.  “It’s the first time she’s really felt pain.  I don’t know what to do.”  
  
The doctor shrugs, and ties off the bandages — proper, clean white linen this time — with a little pat.  “Who does?  Stay with her, and help each other.  I’ll make it a proper order, if you need me to.”  
  
Eugene shakes his head.  “I don’t think so, but I’ll let you know.  Thank you, sir.”  
  
He smiles, and reaches over to pat Eugene’s hand, clasped around Rapunzel’s.  “Try to keep her off her feet for a few days, eh?  I’ll come back to check on her tonight.  If she’s in pain, a drop of laudanum under her tongue.”  
  
“Yes, sir.  Thank you, sir.”  And then he’s alone, and Rapunzel is fast asleep.  He tucks the blankets around her and indulges himself with a single kiss to her brow, which she doesn’t react to.  Still holding her hand, he reaches for whatever’s on top of the stack of books next to her bed, and settles in to wait.  
  
She’s only asleep for an hour when he feels her stir, and he sets the book aside, shifting a little closer to her bed.  Rapunzel wriggles a little closer to him, and he’s already smiling when her eyes open.  He’s had long enough to calm down, to remind himself that she’s not even badly hurt and that she’s also unbelievably resilient, will probably have him laughing at himself within a few minutes.  “Hi, beautiful.”  
She smiles at that, sleepy and lopsided, moving her hand so their fingers lace together.  “Hey.”  
  
“How do you feel?”  
  
“Mmm.”  She yawns, and her eyes open a little wider, a little brighter.  “Tired.  Okay.  How’re you?”  
  
“Me?  I didn’t fall out of a tree.”  He leans over and kisses her cheek.  “I’m fine.”  
  
She blushes, and looks down at the quilt, running the fingers of her free hand over the edge.  “I’m so sorry.”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“For getting hurt.  It’s your first day free in weeks, and we had everything planned so nicely, and I’m sorry.  You don’t have to stay here with me.”  
  
“Wha?”  There’s a chameleon hanging out on his shoulder, his best friend/enemy is a frighteningly intelligent horse (and oh no, he’s gotta tell Max that Rapunzel got hurt on his watch and Max will Not Be Happy), and the strangest part of his life, by far, is that his girlfriend is making a heartfelt apology for falling out of a tree and apparently ruining his day.    
  
Eugene needs a drink more than he has ever needed a drink in his entire life right now.  
  
“You could still get back to forest for the rest of the afternoon, get out of the castle like you said you wanted to.”  She’s smiling at him, but not enough to hide the anxiety in her eyes.  “I’m so sorry we had to come back here, because of me.  Please don’t be too angry?”  
  
“What?”  Oh, go him!  He’s managed a hard consonant sound and a whole word!  “Rapunzel, what are you talking about?  I’m not angry with you in the least.  Did I do something to make you think that?”  Maybe he’d been too quiet?  Too calm?  He is clearly terrible at this boyfriend thing.  
  
“You’re not?”  She visibly brightens, and he can’t help but share a look with Pascal, who’d run to curl up on Rapunzel’s pillow as soon she had started to speak.  The chameleon looks just as lost as he feels, and Eugene is pretty sure the little guy shrugs, because sure, his girlfriend’s frog shrugs now.  At least someone understands him.  
  
“No!  I…no!  Rapunzel…”  He leans over, pressing their twined hands to his forehead.  “I will never, ever, ever be angry with you for getting hurt.  It was an accident, that’s all.  You scared me, but you haven’t ruined anything, and I am definitely not leaving this castle without you.”  He’s breathing deeply, trying not to cry, because this feelings for other people thing is really hard.  “If…if you want to be alone, I’ll go, but frankly I’ll just sit on the other side of the door.”  He looks up and meets her eyes, smiles weakly.  “Please don’t want to be alone?”  
  
“Oh, Eugene.”  She pushes herself upright and somehow pulls him onto the bed at the same time, so they can wrap their arms around each other, and it feels so, so good to have her in his arms, to be able to press kisses to her hair, her face, show her how precious she is to him, so he does just that for a long time.  “I’m sorry.”  
  
“You haven’t done anything wrong.  Nothing at all.”  He closes his eyes, feels their breathing calm together.  “Are you okay?  Really?”  
  
“Really,” she promises.  “My leg is sore, but it doesn’t hurt anymore.”    
  
He smiles and finally lets her go, settles her back against the pillows, shifting them so she can sit up a little.  “Good.  You have to stay off your feet for a few days, Doc said, but I can help you out to the balcony later and we can watch the sunset, if you want?”  That way she wouldn’t feel too cooped up, at least.  
  
“Yes, please.”  She takes his hands in hers, running her thumbs over his knuckles.  “You okay?  Really?”  
  
“I am now.”  He kisses her; can’t seem to stop.    
  
“Sorry about the whole…” she bites her lip, trailing off.  “Sorry.”  She smiles wryly at him.  “Eventually I’ll learn that everything Gothel did was wrong.”  
  
“Hey.  You don’t need to apologise.”  He squeezes her hands.  “Did Gothel get angry with you?  If you got hurt?”  He hates talking about that woman, but it seems to help Rapunzel to explain her life before.  
  
“Not angry, exactly,” she says, freeing one hand to pet Pascal, soothing him back to his usual green.  “I mean, it helps that I never really got hurt, after I got good with my hair.  But I remember once, when I was little — maybe ten? — I fell, and I broke my leg, really bad.”  She squeezes Eugene’s hand when he winces.  “She helped me wrap my hair around it, and sing the song, and it was okay.  But she wouldn’t stop…wouldn’t stop teasing me about how clumsy I was.  She always brought it up.  And she was angry that I broke the bannister.”  Rapunzel bites her lip and meets Eugene’s eyes, relaxing when all she sees there is compassion, caring, love.  “It doesn’t sound that bad when I put it that way, but…I was always scared, so I tried to hide if I got hurt, even just little bruises.”  
  
“It does sound that bad, actually,” Eugene says, and shifts to pull Rapunzel into a hug.  “I’m sorry you got hurt, sweetheart. Even if it wasn’t for very long.”  Simple words, gentle ones — that’s how to begin to undo all the harm Gothel brought on Rapunzel.  She heals herself, really, he’s just along for the ride.  “And you’re not clumsy at all, by the way.  She never should have made you feel like that.”  
  
She nods, and sighs, resting her head on his shoulder.  “I’m so glad you’re here.”  
  
“Wouldn't want to be anywhere else.”  Okay, this feelings thing isn’t so bad, not when it means he’s got someone to snake her arms around him, pull him down so he’s lying beside her.  And possibly he will not always suck at being a boyfriend.  It is even distantly possible that he doesn’t suck at it right now, considering the way Rapunzel is smiling, cocooned in his arms.  
  



	5. Fate's Design

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for the prompt: And finally, right before he dies, he just whispers, “Sorry, Blondie…”

The children were grown.  Only two, a boy and a girl — they’d both have liked more, but Hannelore’s birth had nearly cost her mother’s life, so they were content with two, lavishing the growing prince and princess with love and attention.  And now they were grown and married, and Hannelore had a little daughter of her own, and Fryderyk and his wife seemed to be working on a brood, so that the castle was full of grandchildren to be spoiled.  The royal succession was assured.  Their work was nearly done, with Fryderyk already taking the lion’s share, his mother guiding him only when needed, and she and Eugene finally able to have whole days, whole months to themselves for the first time in what felt like decades.  Mostly because it was the first time in close to forty years.  
  
So their work was done, the kingdom flourished, and they had travelled to all the places they’d always wanted to, seen everything they’d dreamed of when they were so young and then during the busy years of child-raising and kingdom-ruling. And it had been the best life. The best; so far beyond what Eugene could ever have imagined when he was young and making himself into Flynn Rider.  
  
So it was that he was not sad, and did not regret, as he lay dying.  
  
Rapunzel was curled around him in the bed, their heads lying on the same pillow.  Mostly they were silent together.  When pneumonia had nearly taken him last winter, and he’d known he’d not leave their bed again under his own power, they had talked constantly.  They had told each other stories, reminded each other of memories, cried together when the remembrances were too sharp and beautiful.  But now they were quiet, holding one another and…waiting.  Eugene was so tired.  
  
“Sorry, Blondie.”  
  
She shifted, kissing his temple and nuzzling his hair a little, now pure silver.  (But still as thick as when he was twenty-six.  Apparently he was definitely never going to outgrow vanity.)  “For what?”  
  
“Sorry I’m going to go first, girl.  I promised you…”  Long ago, so so long ago, when she’d woken sobbing after a nightmare where a thousand tears hadn’t brought him back, he’d promised her that he would make sure she never, ever had to watch breath leave his body again.  He’d promised her that she’d never be alone.  It was a reckless promise, one that couldn’t be kept, but it weighed on him all the same.  
  
“What?  Oh, Eugene, no.  No.”  Her arms, still strong — she was always stronger than she looked, could dip him whenever it took her fancy — tightened around him.  “Don’t worry about that.  I…I’m going to miss you so much.”  Her voice caught, ragged and rough, but she hadn’t ruled for decades without learning control. “I don’t know how to be, without you.  But I’d never make you…stay.”  She took a deep breath.  “Wherever you go, wait for me.  I won’t be long.”  
  
Eugene managed to turn his head, press a kiss to her cheek.  “Not sure we’ll end up in the same place, Blondie.”  
  
“Oh yes we will,” she countered, in the voice of the girl who’d tied him up and ordered him to be her guide.  “Where you go, I go.”  Eugene wasn’t religious, hadn’t ever bothered much about belief, but he was pretty sure that when she spoke like that, the universe listened.    
  
“All right, all right.”  So many, many years he’d had her and been hers in return, and he was already greedy for an eternity more.    
  
He was so tired, so ready to go.  It took all his strength to open his eyes, meet hers.  “Love you.  Always.  My Rapunzel.”  
  
She kissed his brow, woman, wife and Queen, loving and blessing, assuring him it was okay to go.  “I love you too.  Always.  Sleep, Eugene.”  
  
He was already drifting off, limbs heavy and the feel of Rapunzel’s kiss melting into dreams.  And the dreams faded away and he felt strong again, felt his body move and respond.  He was walking easily along a road in the first sweet days of spring, feeling like a young man again.  It occurred to him that dying hadn’t felt like this last time.  
  
“Oh, Blondie.”  He looked for a good spot to stop and wait.  Like hell he’d start the next adventure without his girl by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everybody who's read and left kudos and comments! I am on Tumblr at dietraumerei.tumblr.com, come bother me.
> 
> (Fryderyk got the Polish spelling of the name because I am the author and I can name people after Chopin if I want. Just in case you, too, are a pedantic saddo like me ;) )


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